


Fleck

by ScrappyAsFrick



Category: Naruto
Genre: Aged Up Academy Graduation, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Eventual Smut, F/M, Falling in Love in Thirty-One Days, Prompts/Drabbles with Overall Plot, Rebound Relationship, Sai Learns About the Birds and the Bees, Sakura Month 2021
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-01
Updated: 2021-03-10
Packaged: 2021-03-14 15:20:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 16,974
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29793885
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ScrappyAsFrick/pseuds/ScrappyAsFrick
Summary: She is a spot of color in this lonely, cruel world, and he has always been drawn to fine details.
Relationships: Haruno Sakura/Sai
Comments: 31
Kudos: 59





	1. Day One: "Tell me everything."

**Author's Note:**

> Hello everyone! :) Thank you all for reading. This is for day one of Sakura Month. Please check out the #sakuramonth tag on Tumblr for more Sakura-centric works as we celebrate Sakura's birthday month. It'll be comprised of short chapters featuring the prompts.

# Fleck

Fleck: a very small patch of color or light.

### Day One: "Tell me everything."

Naruto has a Sai problem, and if Naruto has a problem, it’s inherently Sakura’s problem. That’s what being a team is about. That’s what being _family_ is about. When they graduated from the academy together at the ripe age of eighteen, Naruto, Sakura, and Sasuke had been thrust together and put through hell: from beginner missions wrangling lost pets to an encounter with the disgraced Sanin Orochimaru that led Sasuke astray.

Sasuke abandoning the Leaf village, abandoning them, had broken her heart, sure…but it had devastated Naruto in a way that Sakura couldn’t have predicted. They’d both thrown themselves into their training—Sakura learning under their Hokage Tsunade, and Naruto with the Toad Sage Jiraiya. Naruto leaving the village had shocked Sakura. She’d thought they had so much to learn together, and suddenly she was the last member of her little rookie team. Of course, she had people here, but the loss of both of her teammates hit her hard.

And upon Naruto’s return a little over two years later, she’d hoped everything could go back to normal. As normal as things could be, with Sasuke still gone. Naruto noticed his absence too, the looming deadline of Orochimaru’s body-swapping jutsu hanging over their heads. It was one thing to have Yamato while Kakashi was in the hospital, but to be introduced to Sai—a replacement for Sasuke that had openly insulted him—was just too much for Naruto.

And like always, Sakura was expected to put her feelings on the back-burner and act like a mediator for the two. The fact that Sai has replaced Sasuke even in this, forcing her to stand between her bickering teammates, is not lost on her. She would be lying if she said she didn’t resent him for it, at least a little.

Yet, here she is, approaching Sai as he sketches along the river, resuming her role as mediator once again.

“Sakura,” Sai greets her without looking up from his work, detailing the riverbank across from his field of vision.

She hesitates, caught off-guard. She’s a shinobi herself, and a hop and skip away from her skillset as a Genin, but it always throws her off whenever one of her friends senses her coming. “Sai,” Sakura tries to sound chipper, a thin smile on her face as she takes a seat on the grassy bank next to him. “Can I talk to you for a minute?”

He nods, to indicate for her to go on, but he doesn’t break focus.

Alright, Sakura muses. She can work with that. Her eyes are drawn to the picture—it’s not quite realism, but the linework of the trees along the riverbank are exact and striking. “So,” she starts, watching his fingers move, “you insulted Sasuke to Naruto’s face again, after I explicitly warned you not to.”

His fingers still. He pauses to look at her, a tight-lipped smile on his face. “Are you going to hit me again? You said you would.”

She feels the blood rush to her cheeks. The shinobi world isn’t exactly a pleasant one. Her fellow Rookie Nine have all roughed each other up more times than she can count and even taking it easy, with no chakra infused into her fist, she knows she’s got a hell of an arm. “I’m not going to hit you. But you need to stop bad-mouthing Sasuke to Naruto and me. He’s our precious teammate.”

Sai huffs softly, turning back to his work. He deftly traces the silhouette of a young couple taking a stroll, hand in hand.

Sakura bristles, “Wh—Don’t make a noise!”

“I didn’t make a noise.”

“Yes, yes you did,” Sakura protests, jade eyes narrowing into a pointed glare—No, she can’t get pissed off. She’s doing this for Naruto, and by extension she’s doing this for Sasuke. “You know what? Nevermind.” Sakura takes a deep breath, exhaling slowly before she continues. “I’m trying to keep the peace. If you’re going to be on our team—”

“Replacing Sasuke,” Sai comments, side-eyeing her briefly as he works. 

“You’re not _replacing_ Sasuke.” Sakura groans, flopping backward into the grass. “Listen, if you and Naruto keep fighting, I’ll have to keep mediating, and that’s...difficult for me.”

“Why?”

“Because I had the same role for Naruto and Sasuke, and it hurts to be reminded of him. They fought all the time too, and I had to keep the peace. Glue the team together, I guess, because they were always busy looking out for me.” She’s looking up at the sky, but she hears a soft rustle and turns her head for a surprise—Sai has settled down next to her. Alright, maybe this isn’t a lost cause after all.

“That’s not what I meant. Why is it your job to mediate?” Sai elaborates, dark eyes focused on the clouds above. “Go on. You came to talk. You might as well tell me everything.”

Sakura gawks at him for a moment. 

Sai turns his head to look at her, donning that familiar fake smile. “You wish to be friends to keep the peace as we work together, right? Perhaps I would feud less with Naruto, and you, if I understood why Sasuke Uchiha, a traitor to the Leaf village that directly put both of you in danger, is so important to you.”

Sakura feels a swell of anger, but she stills herself. Joining her on the grass like this, questioning her motives—Sai isn’t goading her. Not on purpose. And logically, she knows that’s what Sasuke is to anyone that didn’t know him. Sure, to Naruto and Sakura, he’s family. She loves him. But Sai? Sai doesn’t even know the guy. As far as Sai’s concerned, he’s a run of the mill Leaf traitor that packs an above-average punch and put the village in a compromising position. 

So, she tells him everything: her academy crush, becoming a team, thinking she lost him in the Land of Waves, thinking she’d lose him again in the Exams, the encounter with Itachi and what that meant for Sasuke, to how he left her on a bench and beat Naruto nearly to death on his way out of the village. 

“You still never answered my question,” Sai points out at the end of it. “Why is it your job to mediate? If Naruto, or Sasuke for that matter, can’t control his temper, they shouldn’t have let him out of the academy. Shinobi must quell their emotions.”

Well, he’s not wrong. There are chapters upon chapters of dealing with emotions as a shinobi, and most of the guidelines are simply to push them down—to compartmentalize. How could they operate as they’re meant to, as warriors and killers, otherwise? “They utilize their passions to make themselves stronger. I mediate because...well, at the time, it’s what I could provide to the team. But I’m getting stronger too.”

“Why do you care so much about the Uchiha, when he’s betrayed you?” Sai shifts, looking back up at the sky.

It’s a hard question. Sakura turns to the sky too. “Well...sometimes love is hard. Heartbreak sucks. Sometimes you love someone so much that if they asked you to rip your own heart out for them, you’d do it.” A secret flashes through her mind, something that not even Naruto knows: when Sasuke left the village, she’d tearfully volunteered to go with him. And she would’ve, she would’ve left poor, devastated Naruto all alone. Remembering what he’d been like, after Sasuke was gone, shoots a pang of guilt through her heart at the thought. 

“If the person you love would ask you to rip out your heart,” Sai muses, “then it would seem to me that you’re in love with the wrong person.”

Sakura hesitates. She’d like to pretend it was the first time she’d thought that herself, but it’s been a hard few years with both of her teammates gone. “It’s an expression, Sai. Look, please try a little harder to get along with Naruto. It’ll make my life easier.”

“Alright.” Sai waits a minute, watching a fat cloud crawl across the sky, before he asks, “Are you angry with me? For when I didn’t catch you on the mission?”

Well, she wasn’t, until he brought it up. Sakura’s eyebrow twitches. ‘Well, Yamato-sensei caught me, so everything worked out alright in the end.”

“Not really. The mission was a failure.”

“Are you planning to apologize then?”

“No,” Sai admits. “I prioritized the mission. Stopping to save you at the cost of the mission would have made no logical sense.”

Sakura sits up, raking her fingers through her hair in frustration. Seriously, this guy’s as dry a conversationalist as they come. Where did he get his social skills? “Well, then why the hell did you bring it up?”

“It’s strange,” Sai remarks quietly. “I feel bad about it anyway.”

“Uh—” Sakura chuckles awkwardly. She shifts to get up, deciding to take the closest to an apology she’ll probably get from him, “Well, thank you for saying you feel bad about it. Just think about what I said. If you could stop provoking Naruto, my life would be easier.” 

He doesn’t sit up, still staring up at the sky. “I still don’t understand both of you being protective over Sasuke,” Sai starts, offering what Sakura can only assume is his closest attempt at a peace offering, “but for the sake of Naruto’s fragile temperament, I will avoid riling him up so that you don’t have to baby grown men.”

Sakura wouldn’t phrase it that way, but she figures that’s as close to a resolution as she’s likely to get with him. “Thanks, Sai.” She rocks on her heels for a moment, waiting to see if he has anything else to add, before she departs. She looks out over the river as she goes, heading toward downtown to pick up a new volume on blood coagulation she’d reserved from the research center. The trees look lovely, still bare from winter but large and proud across the river.

Of course, those trees are too far, and she isn’t paying enough attention to the branches above her to notice the new buds beginning to sprout—the first of the season.


	2. Day Two: Poison

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everyone! :) Thank you for reading, and for your comments & kudos. I’m having a lot of fun with the prompts.

# Fleck

### Day Two: Poison

To Sakura’s surprise, Sai pays her a visit in her office late the following night. The hospital receptionist calls her landline and asks if it’s alright to send a Sai, no last name but allegedly her teammate, her way. Sakura is mid-way through transcribing the Nara clan’s latest notes on a potent, poisonous plant found along the mountains of Iwa—a difficult find that they’d recently come across by way of strategic trade—and she’s about to politely have Sai sent away, when she hesitates. After all, he’d come out to the hospital late at night to see her. Maybe it’s important. Maybe it’s related to their talk yesterday.

“Yeah, that’s fine,” Sakura says into the receiver, “I’ll come get him.” 

It’s a short elevator ride to the lobby, where Sai is standing near the receptionist desk without bothering to make conversation, a book tucked between his folded arms and his chest. 

Sakura eyes him warily. Isn’t he ever cold in the crop top? And can’t he tell that the fake, unwavering smile on his face is making the receptionist uncomfortable? Hell, it makes her uncomfortable, and she’s at least met the man. “Sai,” Sakura raises her arm in a halfhearted wave, “come with me, we can talk while I work.” 

“Alright,” Sai gives a small nod of acknowledgement to the receptionist and follows Sakura, who whirls on her heel and leads him toward the elevator.

Sakura presses the button, waiting a beat for the elevator door to open and stepping inside. Once Sai follows suit, she presses the button for her floor and the doors close. At this time of night, this wing of the hospital—the administrative wing, with mostly offices, including her own—is mostly deserted save for those catching up on new research material, those too tired to make it home, and those drowning in overdue paperwork. Ordinarily, Sakura wouldn’t have qualified for her own office space as an apprentice, but as  _ Tsunade’s _ apprentice, her mentor had assured her an appropriate space to do her research. 

“Naruto told me that I could find you here,” Sai says before Sakura can ask. He holds up his book for her to see, titled ‘Relationships: A Comprehensive Guide.’ “I needed clarification on something, and you’re smarter than him, so I asked where you were.”

Sakura squints at the title, “Is that a self-help book?”

“That’s right,” Sai pulls the book back into his chest, holding it protectively. “I am trying to better understand others, but I keep having questions as I read.”

Well...Sai trying to better his people skills is pretty much exactly what she asked of him, so even if she’s busy, how can she turn him away? “That’s fine. I’m transcribing some notes, so you can make yourself comfortable reading and ask me if you have a question. Or do you have questions prepared?” 

The elevator doors open, a sleepy eyed intern with a written coffee order on the other side, just in time for Sai to announce, “Yes, could you please elaborate on the concept of a  _ fuck-buddy?” _

To the intern’s credit, she doesn’t drop the order, and she and Sakura share an equally horrified expression. “I’m so sorry about him,” Sakura announces, completely mortified, grabbing Sai by the wrist and yanking him out of the elevator. “Oh God, I’m so sorry.” She doesn’t stop until they’ve reached her office, swiping the key card at the end of her lanyard, swinging open the door, and practically tossing him inside so that she can slam the door closed behind them.

She’d left the light on when she went to collect him and, with no regard for what he’d just said, Sai proceeds to peek at the open notes on her desk. “Notes on rare poisons, hm? Naruto calls you a workaholic, you know.”

Sakura swats his arm, her cheeks beet red, “What the hell is wrong with you?! I work here! You can’t say something like that while you’re with me at work! Or in public! Or—Or—Hell,  _ why  _ are you reading about fuck-buddies?!” 

“You’re angry,” Sai complains as he throws his arms up in self-defense, waiting for more swats—or something stronger—that never come. “You asked if I had questions prepared!” 

Sakura holds back, her anger hot in her chest. No social skills, Sakura reminds herself. Sai has no social skills, and he doesn’t understand how much he just embarrassed her. “Didn’t you give me crap yesterday about babying grown men?” She fumes, hands digging into the fabric of her sweater. “I know you’re a little dense, or sheltered, or something, but even you should know that was way out of line.”

Sai lowers his arms, and with it, the offending book. He doesn’t say anything, averting his dark eyes from her. 

Still annoyed with him, Sakura sits at her desk. She fiddles with a pen—a white and pastel pink beauty Tsunade had bought to celebrate her progress in her apprenticeship, and it writes like a dream, making it her favorite—and does her best to explain as a way of breaking the ice between them, “A fuck-buddy is basically someone you have sex with, but there’s no romantic relationship required. What they actually do is dependent on the relationship in question. For some people, dates might be off the table. Or they might be allowed to see other people, or they might be expected to break things off if they’ll be seeing other people. It’s sort of a deal that two people make, and they work the terms out themselves. Does that make sense?”

Sai nods, taking a seat on the chair opposite her desk. He rests the book on the surface, next to her name placard, and clears his throat before speaking, “My next question is more of a statement of opinion, and I’d like to hear your thoughts. Are you going to get angry again?”

Sakura raises an eyebrow, curious as to where this is going. In the safety of this office, is there anything he could say that could truly shock her? “I’ll do my best not to.”

“I’ve been doing some reading on your situation,” Sai starts clerically, opening up his book and searching for his reference, “and I think that we should kiss.”

Sakura stared at him blankly, her favorite pen falling from her hand and rolling into the floor. “Sai,” Sakura responds carefully, hands slowly curling into fists until her knuckles strained white and her nails began to dig into the flesh of her palms, “you had better start explaining, and that explanation had better be perfectly innocent.”

“You said that you wouldn’t get angry,” Sai tugs the book toward himself. 

“I said that I would do my best,” Sakura seethes, “and this is definitely me doing my best.”

“Please don’t hit me,” Sai says flatly, eyeing her closed fists. “I think kissing would be mutually beneficial.”

Sakura barks out a laugh, forcing her hands to focus on yanking her hair into a ponytail to distract her from wanting to wring his neck, “How so?”

“I’ve been researching relationships and came across a section devoted to heartbreak, where one of the proposed solutions is a,” Sai peers into the book for reference, “‘rebound relationship,’ which is another relationship after one that’s left you heartbroken, to help you ‘get over’ the heartbreak, or so it says. As I’m trying to learn more about relationships myself, and we don’t have deeply woven personal ties that we risk damaging by becoming involved, I thought I would be a good potential candidate.”

“And how exactly does that benefit  _ you? _ ” 

“If I intend to learn more about bonds and human relationships, it seems most effective to practice.” Sai closes the book, offering her a tight lipped smile, “The principles of shinobi are best exemplified in the field. Human relationships probably require similar study. And, to put it simply, I trust your correction and guidance, because you’ve corrected me as strangers. I could pursue a friendship with Naruto, and a romance with you, and when your beloved Sasuke returns—then it simply ends, and we have both gained experience from it.”

Sakura shakes her head, resting her cheek in her hand, “Oh, Sai, I don’t think that’s a good idea. You’re a little...clueless about these things.”

He nods, asking without skipping a beat, “You and Sasuke are experienced, then?”

Sakura balks at his boldness, her anger dissipating, “N-No, it’s not that. We never kissed or anything. But I know a lot about it, from books and movies, I feel like it’d be taking advantage of you.”

“I’ve learned everything I know from brooks and movies too,” Sai protests. “I may not know all the context, but I’m willing to learn. At least consider it.”

Well—Sakura hides her face in her hands. It’s not like she’s never thought about kissing before, or even the first time she’s thought about kissing someone besides Sasuke. Most of them were actors in steamy romances, but still, a proposition put right in front of her is different. Embarrassing. She’d always thought she was saving her first kiss for her true love—Wait a minute. “You don’t even think I’m pretty,” Sakura protests between her fingers.

“What?”

She looks up, jade eyes narrow, “You called me ugly to my face. Are you making fun of me?”

“Well—” Sai sputters to his own defense. “I’ve read that negative nicknames indicate familiarity. You call Naruto an idiot, for example. I thought that it was alright to challenge insecure traits, and according to my research, women are generally insecure about appearance and standards of beauty.”

Sakura twitches with annoyance, “Sai, you have to be closer with someone before you can do that sort of thing. Otherwise, you’re just being mean to strangers. There’s more context to it than you think. I’m close with my mother and Ino, but if I called Mom a pig like I do with Ino, it would really hurt her feelings.”

Sai dwells on that for a moment, his foot shuffling sheepishly along the carpet, “I’ve made a mistake then. I was trained to ignore standards of physical beauty, so that emotions wouldn’t interfere with my work as a shinobi. I wouldn’t know if you were beautiful or not.” 

“Comforting,” Sakura grumbles, looking down at her notes. “Listen, you sit there and read for a bit. I need to get through these notes.”

Flustered is an unfamiliar feeling for Sai. Panic, sure, in a sense he is used to that, but not like this. He searches his mind for any reference, any genuine compliment that he can think of, and he blurts, “You’re out of place.”

Sakura doesn’t look up from her notes, silently praying to any God listening to grant her patience. She starts to write, ready to ignore him in favor of the properties for a potential antidote. 

“Like—” Sai tries to think of something kind, something a woman would like to hear, and he can only think of the truth, “Like a flower that’s somehow sprouted in the middle of the battlefield.” 

She pauses, the simile sinking in for a moment. Sakura cracks a smile. Alright. Not half bad. “I forgive you. It’s okay. Read your book for a little while.”


	3. Day Three: Moonlight

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everyone! :) Welcome back for day three!! It’s funny, I usually go into stories intending for them to be fluff and very shortly in, I’m practically waving torches about how messed up the shinobi universe is—with zero support for the shinobi. I haven’t seen Boruto but I did hear that Sakura opens a mental health clinic, and I feel like she’s following in Tsunade’s footsteps of trying to truly help the people of the village. Just some food for thought.

# Fleck

### Day Three: Moonlight

Sai stays with her through the night, for the most part reading in silence as she studies well past midnight and into the early morning. Occasionally, he has a question for her, but he’s chosen to navigate toward safer questions regarding friendship and family. 

Sakura wonders, as she packs away the medicinal notes to return to the research center and then go get a good night’s rest. Well, maybe not  _ good, _ at this point, but her training is scheduled in the afternoon, so she’ll at least have the morning to sleep in. Because he doesn’t move when she starts tidying up, Sakura announces, “I’m getting ready to go home, Sai. If you have any more questions, we can meet up again.” 

“Like a date?” Sai asks, holding up his book for emphasis, “A non-essential meeting between two potential romantic partners is a  _ date,  _ am I correct?” 

Sakura tenses, tucking her notebook into her desk drawer, “Your definition is fine, but we aren’t romantically involved, so it’s not a date.” 

“Potentially?” Sai stands, tucking the book between his arms and against his chest, “Unless you’ve finished considering it.”

To be completely honest, Sakura had forced it out of her mind so she could work. “I’m going to have to say no,” Sakura shakes her head. She has rejected people before, sure, but never someone who meant his romantic interest as...well basically, a sociology project. “You’re figuring out personal relationships for the first time. I don’t think it’s a good idea for you to fake one.” 

“I don’t think it’s fake,” Sai nods slowly, averting his eyes and heading for the door. “You’re a teammate. Someone I’m meant to trust, at the basest of levels. I thought it natural to experiment with intimacy with you, posing less emotional risk to you as a ‘rebound,’ as opposed to someone you know well.” He opens the door for her, gesturing outward, “But I will respect your opinion, and I won’t ask again.”

His explanation for asking makes sense, sure, so Sakura tries to divert his attention, “I’m still in love with Sasuke. I don’t think I can experiment, you know? My heart’s not into it. But hey, what about Ino? You thought she was pretty when you met her, didn’t you?” 

Sai creases his brow, “I only said that because you had such a negative reaction to the term ‘ugly.’ I was raised without the emotional and societal qualifiers to tell if someone is beautiful because, to avoid distractions and unnecessary ties, I’m not meant to think anyone is.” 

Sakura matches his puzzled expression, “So...you don’t think Ino is beautiful?”

“I wouldn’t know,” Sai shrugs. “It’s late. Do you want me to walk you home?” When Sakura looks uncertain, he clarifies, “As a new friend and teammate. I can still study bonds that way, if that’s alright, and I do still have questions.”

If he didn’t try so hard to keep his expression neutral, Sakura might’ve thought the end of that sentence sounded a little petulant—a complaint that she was busy. She snickers, “Alright, alright, we can walk and talk. Shoot.” They leave, the door automatically locking behind them as they go, and Sakura leads him toward the after-hour drop off for research materials.

He tails her like a duckling, “Why are you in love with Sasuke Uchiha instead of someone else?”

Sakura’s footsteps sputter and she catches herself, resuming her stride. Geez, right at it with the big guns. “Sai,” Sakura reminds him, “I don’t want you saying anything negative about Sasuke. You didn’t know him.”

“I won’t,” Sai protests, speeding up to walk beside her. “I want to understand.”

Sakura drops off the original notes, using a key to open the drop-off box and gingerly placing them inside. She sighs, wondering exactly to begin in her story of one-sided romance, “Well, I first developed a crush on Sasuke when we were little, because I thought he was handsome and talented.”

“A crush?” They head for the elevator. Fortunately, now that it’s even later, there’s no one wandering this wing of the hospital, and they can talk freely. 

“Yes,” Sakura clarifies, “it’s basically the first stage of liking someone. You feel nervous, basically.” She presses the button, and they wait for the elevator to arrive. 

“Ah,” Sai nods his head in agreement, “so like how I feel when you’re about to hit me.”

Sakura snorts sharply, bursting into a fit of laughter as the doors open for them. “No, uh, probably a different kind of nervousness.” They step inside, Sakura trying to politely quell her laughter, because she knows he’s serious. “More like you have butterflies in your stomach, and your heart beats fast, and you’re shy but you still desperately want them to talk to you.”

Sai is quiet for a few moments, considering, before he gives her a signature thin smile, “I see. If that’s the first stage of liking someone, then what happens next?” 

“It’s different for everyone,” Sakura remarks, thinking back on her time with Sasuke and Naruto as a team. “I already liked him, so then once we were put on the same team together, we experienced a lot that bonded us as a group. It brought Naruto and I together as friends and, because of my already existing crush, developed that crush on Sasuke into love. He—” Sakura hesitates, trying to think of the right words, “Be isn’t the warmest person to begin with. Downright cold on the surface, actually. But his life has been hard. He’s been all alone, and I didn’t know that about him when we were little. He has priorities beyond getting a girlfriend and falling in love, and revenge has been his only path forward for so long.” 

Sai grunts sharply, his eyes narrowing, “Why would you fall in love with someone like that?”

Sakura smiles bitterly. Even she doesn’t know the answer to that question. Because you don’t always get to pick the people you love? Because she held his body, thinking he was dead and lost to her forever, in the Land of Waves? Because she saw the change in him in the Forest of Death, and was afraid to lose the sweet boy of her youth? “Because even when I know he thinks I’m annoying, he’ll throw himself into harm’s way to protect me. Because he picked an ambition and he throws all of his talent and focus at it, even if it’s not a...nice dream, like Naruto’s. It’s not bright, it’s not something everyone can understand, and he carries that burden alone in his heart. Because—Because—” Fucking hell, she’s crying.

“Sakura,” Sai starts, leaning forward in alarm, “you’re—”

“I know,” she scoffs, roughly wiping her eyes on the sleeve of her sweater. “I know. My eyes water when I’m pissed off, and I’m pissed of because I love Sasuke, because I want to save him so  _ goddamn badly  _ that I broke my heart over and over for him and I didn’t even succeed.” The doors open, and Sakura speeds out of the elevator, rushing through the lobby with a brisk wave at the receptionist—who is not paying enough attention to wave back—as Sai scurries behind her. 

“Sakura,” Sai calls after her as she heads out through the automatic doors, down the road, in the direction of her home, her hand pressing roughly to her temple to assuage a fast-approaching headache from trying to hold back her tears.

“I’m sorry,” Sakura slows so he can catch up, looking sharply away from him and up at the moon to try and blink away her watery eyes, “go on. What’s your next question?”

“You didn’t fail Sasuke,” Sai’s hands dart out to steady her shoulders so that she can’t run off again.

“You weren’t there,” Sakura shakes her head. “I liked him for years. I should’ve seen the signs, should’ve loved him enough to see what he was becoming, but I—” She sniffles sharply, “I ignored it in favor of who he was when we were younger. If I could just ease his suffering, if I could just get him to see me the way that I see him, maybe he would know he’s not all alone, you know? I can’t let Orochimaru kill him. I can’t let everything end that way.” 

Her loss is something he can recognize. Something he has held as a knot in his gut, knowing that if he cried for his brother that he’d have his grief beaten out of him. In the moonlight, crying like this, she looks fragile—not like the powerhouse kunoichi that he knows her to be—her skin practically glowing, her jade eyes glossy with tears, stray strands of her pale pink hair painted silver by the soft light. She looks—The word doesn’t come to Sai. “It’s not your responsibility to save him. He made a choice to leave the village.

“Of course it’s my responsibility, mine and Naruto’s,” Sakura shakes her head, the exhaustion of her night and her now blossoming headache weighing on her, and she shimmies closer to slump her head into his shoulder. “This village preaches about our bonds, forged in fire, but when Sasuke’s family died, where were the adults? When Naruto was alone, ostracized, where were they? Tsunade had to beg for qualified medics on each squad as a standard practice, to save as many lives as possible, and the village said  _ no.  _ Something is fucked up. And, even though I’m ready to scream bloody murder at the sky once a day minimum, I’m the most privileged and secure of the three of us—So, I have to figure out how to do something about it. I need to fix it,” she sniffles, “and I don’t know  _ how  _ to fucking fix it.” 

Sai didn’t know what screaming at the sky could possibly help with, and he’s too anxious to ask—Sakura is so free with her emotions that his deficiency of them makes him uneasy in a way he doesn’t understand. Timidly, carefully, with the care he puts into every movement of a stealth operation, he shifts his hands from her shoulders to her back. He’d read about this: an embrace. It’s meant to bring comfort. “Let’s get you home,” he mumbles quietly, hands moving in small circles as he tries to soothe her. Sleep always worked for him as a child. “When you rest, you’ll feel better.”

“Thanks, Sai,” Sakura says gently, choosing to appreciate his tiny step forward, even if it’s the most uncomfortable, tense hug she’s ever had. He’s telling the truth—For whatever reason, Sai is trying to learn. 


	4. Day Four: Scent

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everyone! :) Welcome to day four of Sakura month. Honestly, I'm keeping better pace than I'd thought, but it would seem I have tricked myself into another NaNoWriMo because I can't write a short chapter to save my life haha.

# Fleck

### Day Four: Scent

As unhealthy as it sounds, Sakura rarely feels as good as she does when she’s punching something. Most often, her training has to be conducted with a precise amount of chakra. Enough to cushion the blow to her knuckles without obliterating the poor tree, ground, or person that she is practicing on. 

Today, however, her mentor Tsunade—a legendary powerhouse training her to become another legendary powerhouse—asked her a question that threw her off her game: “Are you wearing perfume?”

The comment brings her back to her conversation with Sai, in the early hours of yesterday morning—crying as he tentatively held her and then walked her home—because her stupid, stupid brain takes any possible pathway to divert toward Sasuke. “No, Sakura says, fidgeting with the hem of her workout shorts, “well, uh, the store discontinued my normal detergent, so I had to switch scents.” The one Sasuke uses—used, at least. Ino and Sakura had spotted him buying it when they were preteens, and in a fit of infatuation, they’d both switched to it. Ino had switched to something else shortly after Sasuke left the village, but Sakura thought she needed to remind herself of what she’s fighting for. And God, she missed him so damn much, she had needed the reminder. And because life rarely pulls punches, now the detergent is gone, just like him.

“I like it,” Tsunade says of the new scent, casually stretching her arms. “It’s flowery. Suits you better.”

Sakura ducks her head in agreement, taking a stance and signaling that she’d like to get started, in order to end the uncomfortable line of questioning. She does think that the Spring scent suits her more, and she hates it. Is it stupid to think that her old detergent, like Sasuke, is so ingrained into who she is that she doesn’t want to let go? Is it stupid to still look for it in the aisles, when after all this time she’s started to think it smells more like  _ her  _ than  _ him?  _ She used to lay on her pillow, thinking it smelled like Sasuke and hoping she’d have some sweet dreams, and now she isn’t even convinced he smelled like that—Shit, Tsunade’s swinging. 

Training with Tsunade always requires her full attention, and despite that, Tsunade always demands more: anything from a medical pop-quiz to questions about Sakura’s personal life. Today brought the latter mid-way into their sparring match, a leading question asked as Tsunade’s fist misses grazing Sakura’s ribs, “So, I heard Sai came to visit you at the hospital the other night. What’s that about?”

“Yes, well, he’s reading up on his people skills and he wanted to ask me some questions.” Sakura kicks her leg out, in an attempt to swipe Tsunade’s feet from under her. 

Tsunade leaps to dodge with ease, and they parry shots back and forth between them with the comfort earned from consistent training, “Nothing village related?”

Sakura flushes prominently, her already sweaty face bright red at the cheeks as she remembers what he’d said:  _ I’ve been doing some reading on your situation, and I think that we should kiss. _ “Not at all,” Sakura ducks to avoid a particularly nasty blow, Tsunade’s fist colliding with a tree behind her with enough force to splinter the wood. “He actually offered himself up as a rebound to get over Sasuke.”

That gives Tsunade pause in a way Sakura doesn’t expect, as she lands a blow squarely to her mentor’s stomach. She’s not using her full strength, of course, but the hit still knocks the breath out of her. 

Sakura jerks back in surprise, her hands flying to her mouth, “Lady Tsunade, are you alright?!” 

“Alright?” Tsunade scoffs, doubled over, “Alright?!” She stands up, beaming, her brown eyes bright with mirth. “Sakura, I’m more than alright, I won a fucking bet!”

Sakura stares at her, slowly registering the sudden shift in mood as she gapes at her teacher, “A—A bet? A bet on what? On  _ me?” _

“Of course, on  _ you,” _ Tsunade marches forward, smushing Sakura’s cheeks between her hands. “I knew it! I  _ told _ Shizune that you’re a blossoming young lady, and you wouldn’t wait around for that broody Uchiha forever!” 

“But wait,” Sakura says, voice muffled as Tsunade squishes her face, “Lady Tsunade! I told him no!” 

Tsunade freezes, the victorious smile dropping from her face, and she releases Sakura, “No?” She’s quiet for a few moments, clearly composing herself, “W-Well! That’s certainly fine! He’s an odd young man, and besides, he’s one of Danzo’s little puppets—not raised right.”

Sakura creases her brow, a pang of pity tugging at her heartstrings at that, “He’s trying to improve and make personal connections, that’s why he wanted to—I just—I’ve been saving myself for Sasuke—”

Tsunade balks, ruffling her hair briefly, “Sakura Haruno, you listen to me: stay abstinent if you want, that’s perfectly  _ fine,  _ but don’t do it for a man. If your virginity was Sasuke Uchiha’s priority, then he’d be here, wouldn’t he?”

Sakura winces, her face so hot that her ears burn red, “It wasn’t even about that, Sai wanted to kiss.” She sees Tsunade looking at her with disbelief, and so Sakura rushes to clarify, “He doesn’t even really understand what he’s asking, you know? Emotionally, Sai is super dense! And besides, what if—What if Sasuke comes back and is mad that I kissed someone else?”

_ “You  _ are a perfectly lovely, eligible young lady, and even one of Danzo’s agents can see that. If Sasuke wants to gallivant around the world to hunt his brother, just to come home and give  _ you  _ a  _ toe  _ out of line about something you did while he was gone and you weren’t together—I don’t care if you’ve screwed the whole village, I will  _ wring  _ that precious Uchiha blood the Council is so damn worried about right out of his goddamn neck—”

“Lady Tsunade,” Sakura whispers, tone soft but scolding, “Sasuke’s been through a lot.”

“Yeah, well, so have you,” Tsunade huffs, pressing a hand to her temple. “I’m just saying, Sakura, as someone who lost someone precious—someone I loved more than I can tell you—cutting out romance should be  _ your _ call. You can still love and support Sasuke as a friend and teammate. You don’t  _ have  _ to be  _ in love  _ with him.” She winces, rubbing her temple, “Alright, I’ve worked myself up. I need a drink. Hit the showers, Sakura. I’ll see you next session.”

“Oh—” Sakura nods, “Yes, ma’am! Feel better!”

One hot, muscle-relaxing shower later, and Sakura is rummaging through her kitchen, sore but refreshed, in a pair of sweatpants and a baggy shirt. She sighs at her pantry—Sakura needs bread to prep food for work tomorrow, which means a trip to the store. 

She glances down, figuring her shirt is good enough—once out of a bra, she’s not going back in. 

She meets Sai there again. It’s not that there's anything wrong with bumping into him at the store, even with Tsunade’s assurances that she’d be doing nothing wrong if she considers her romantic options. It’s just...so soon after he’d offered. She notices him first, picking through grain, and she tries to wedge herself out of sight. 

Of course, he’s a seasoned shinobi and Sakura has bright pink hair. He visibly perks up when he notices her, beelining in her direction, and he surprises her by glancing at her wet hair and commenting, “New shampoo?”

Sakura grabs the collar of her shirt, picking up the fabric and sniffing it, “My shampoo is unscented. It’s a new detergent.” She sniffs again. “I really don’t think it’s that strong though.” This is what she gets for only knowing shinobi.

“It smells nice,” he says offhandedly, adjusting the large bag of rice in his arm. “You usually smell like dirt.”

Her brow twitches in annoyance, “It was forest scented, if that’s what you mean.”

“Ah, yes,” he nods, clearly not seeing anything wrong with what he’d said. “Now that you mention it, I can see that.”

Sakura picks a loaf of bread and is surprised when Sai offers his hand out, a silent offer to hold it for her before he doubles up, “Would you like me to carry that for you?”

“It’s just a loaf of bread, Sai. I think I’ve got it.” 

Sai’s arm stays outstretched, “Custom dictates that I should extend this courtesy, since we are familiar.”

She squints at him, “Did it say that in your book? That sounds like a load of shit.”

He slowly retracts his arm, brow creasing, and he surprises Sakura by looking...disappointed. “It was my understanding that offering to help someone close to you is an act of intimacy.”

Her bleeding heart and her pride clash. With a defeated sigh, she says, “Tell you what, let me protect my pride and I’ll carry your rice for you.”

Sai contemplates that compromise and figures it meets the social contract, and he hoists the large bag of rice to shift it into her arms. The position of it, loading the bag, brushes the back of his hand against her chest as he releases the weight of the bag into her grip. 

Sakura can see the thought processing as his knuckle, in passing, brushes along her nipple through the fabric of her shirt—Sakura twitches back, embarrassed, and watches mortification bloom on his face.

It’s out of place on his typically neutral face, his pale skin flushing and his eyes going wide. He averts his eyes—as though this was an accident of sight, rather than touch—and stammers out a flustered apology, “I didn’t mean to—It wasn’t my intention to—to—”

“It’s fine,” Sakura assures him, his visible embarrassment only doubling hers. She manages to squeak out, “It was an accident. Let’s just check out.”

He follows her to check out, but he can’t bring himself to look at her. Sai even insists on paying for her bread, and Sakura can’t talk him down without offering unwanted, inappropriate context to the poor cashier ringing them up. 

“It’s weird if you pay,” she tries to hiss at him, but he’s already thrust bills onto the counter. Nothing this embarrassing had happened to her since Naruto walked in on her changing and fainted, hitting his head on the corner of a countertop in the process, and she had to explain to Kakashi why Naruto wouldn’t be attending training. For all intents and purposes, they still don’t talk about it. It’s weird that he’s paying—and it’s even weirder that the flush of his cheeks and the stunned quiver of his bottom lip is a welcome change from his neutral facade. 


	5. Day Five: Tempura

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everyone! :) Welcome to day five!

# Fleck

### Day Five: Tempura

The next evening, Sakura thinks nothing of it when Naruto invites her out for ramen. She’s still not suspicious when Naruto admits that it was Kakashi that extended the invite. When Naruto was gone, Sakura was the last remaining member of Kakashi’s squad, and though the reminder often stung, they remained close. Dinner between the two of them, and the three of them once Naruto was back, was a common occurrence. 

So, Sakura is completely blindsided when Yamato and Sai are there, waiting with Kakashi and Naruto, inside Ichiraku’s. Yamato gives her a friendly wave, but Sai makes himself busy scanning the menu to avoid looking at her.

“Actually, Yamato and I thought you three needed to be a little friendlier,” Kakashi gestures to the empty seats between Sai and himself, “so let’s have you all sit in the middle, shall we?”

Sakura starts to move toward the far seat, but Naruto claims it first.

“I can’t sit next to this guy!” Naruto bellows, launching himself into the seat next to Kakashi with an exaggerated scowl, “Sorry, Sakura, but if I have to look at his damn face, I won’t be able to eat.”

“Naruto—” Sakura starts, looking between Yamato and Kakashi, hoping that one of them would intervene. Sure, Naruto and Sai were downright hostile together, but she didn’t want to sit next to Sai right now either. 

“You won’t always be able to force Sakura to baby you,” Sai challenges, eyes still trained on the menu. He finds himself more annoyed by Naruto than usual.

Naruto shoots up from the seat he’d just taken, hands slamming onto the table, “What the hell did you just say to me?!”

“Enough, Naruto,” comes Kakashi’s warning tone, but the Jonin makes no motion to move.

Flustered, Sakura takes the seat between Naruto and Sai, holding her hands up to appease the pissed off blond, “ _ Naruto, _ it’s totally fine. You’re causing trouble.” 

“Maybe Sakura doesn’t want to sit in the middle,” Sai continues to egg him on, eyes shifting over Sakura’s head to glare at Naruto. “Your childish behavior is unbecoming.” 

“Sai, stop it,” Sakura hisses at him, annoyed that Kakashi and Yamato aren’t doing anything to deescalate the situation. As always, it’s on her until someone starts throwing fists in the damn ramen shop. 

“What, did you do something to bug Sakura?” Naruto looks down at her, fists clenched, “Well? Did he say something rude to you again? ‘Cause I’ll—”

“Sit down,” Sakura raises her voice, catching Naruto off guard, “and behave yourselves, or I’m fucking leaving.” 

Naruto looks at her a moment longer, the ander dissipating from his face, and he slowly takes a seat. Silently, he pretends to skim over a menu, looking too pouty for an adult man.

Sakura feels a twinge of guilt and forces herself to push it down. Sai’s right. She’s babied him for too long—Naruto and Sasuke both, actually—and even though she scolds him often, Naruto doesn’t expect any hard boundaries. He doesn’t expect her to actually be angry with him. Kakashi and Yamato are too passive to do anything about him in earnest, and whatever training he’d done with Jiraiya to improve his physical abilities aside, working solo for years had only fostered his poor teamwork skills. She glances toward Sai, and when he gives her a thin smile, she huffs and looks away. She’d just wanted a nice dinner, dammit. 

Yamato is in the middle of a riveting shinobi tale, back against the wall as an ANBU operative facing a missing nin, when their food arrives. He wraps it up—another operative arrives to save the day—and then all eyes are on the food.

Ichiraku’s never disappoints. Naruto has come here religiously since his childhood for a reason. Well, that, and the older man that runs the place often comped his order, even though Naruto easily goes through several bowls by himself.

Sakura eyes her pork bowl as it’s delivered. She’d been busy helping Lady Tsunade with a difficult case in the hospital today and, fiendishly hungry, she’d scarfed down her lunch at eleven in the morning. And God, the food smells amazing. She’s only just picked up her chopsticks to dig in when Sai carefully holds a tempura shrimp overtop of her bowl with his own chopsticks. Sakura looks over at him, confused.

“I’m sorry,” Sai says, tilting his head at her. “I’ve read that sharing food is an act of intimacy. Will you please accept it as an apology and forgive me for—” Sai fumbles, averting his eyes as the heat rises to his cheeks, “for bothering you.”

An oversimplification. Still, Sakura cracks a smile at it. “Thanks, Sai.” Once he sets the shrimp down, she moves to rip off a piece of her pork. “Here, do you want some?”

“Yes, thank you.”

She can practically feel Naruto fidgeting beside her, nudging his bowl toward hers, “Hey, wait, Sakura! Try some of mine too! I’m sorry too, I can get along with Sai!”

Sakura chuckles, pleased. She can feel the eyes of both Kakashi and Yamato on her, who—for whatever their reasons—have been quiet about correcting the boys. She isn’t sure why it’s always left to her. Perhaps, like she’d said to Sai, it’s always been her job because she’s the only one with any people skills. Everyone else is already too traumatized, chopped at the knees too young. It’s easy to put her in the middle, literally in this case. 

Kakashi has already made it perfectly clear that the people most precious to him are dead. He’s always preferred solo work for the ANBU unit and has failed every team the Hokage has tossed his way, until theirs. Similarly, Yamato was used to do the faceless work of the ANBU unit. Their ability to lead, let alone lead a group of bickering young adults, is questionable at best. 

“Hey,” Yamato calls out with a hearty chuckle, “nobody asked me if I want to share.” 

“Ch’yeah,” Naruto tsks at him, face pulling into a mischievous grin, “By share, do you just mean you want some of everyone else’s food?” 

Meanwhile, Sakura offers a piece of ripped pork to Kakashi, who accepts with a pleasant tilt of his head, closing his eyes, skin underneath creasing as he smiles under his mask—Sakura likes to imagine he’s actually smiling, not just faking it with his eyes. It’s nice, the pleasant chatter and laughter. It reminds her of happier times, before Sasuke left. Before that, even, when Sasuke had started to put distance between them all. She glances over at Sai.

Sharpley, Sai averts his eyes from her. He’s been looking, and thought she’d be angry when she caught him, but when he peeks back back up she’s only smiling pleasantly. She looks...different this way. Often, she looks a little sad, or weary. His eyes are drawn to the brightness in her eyes, to the curve of her smile, to the swell of her bottom lip—

Sai turns back to his food, preoccupying himself with eating. Logically, he doesn’t know why kissing Sakura would still cross his mind. She’d already told him no. He thinks of yesterday, at the store, and he feels a flutter in his stomach so violent and alarming that he thinks he’s going to be sick. His skin is suddenly clammy, his face warm, and he mumbles, “Ah, hold on Sakura, I think the shrimp are bad.”

“Hm?” Sakura leans toward him, “Er, I already ate mine, and I still feel fine.” She presses the back of her hand against his forehead, and then against his cheek.

Sai twitches away from her. He feels like he’s about to vomit, and the moment her skin touches his, the flutter in his stomach only grows more violent. He takes a drink of his water, trying to remember all of the breathing exercises he’d learned in Root. He’d eaten bad food before. He’d eaten bad food before, and suffered through it quietly. Putting his now empty glass down, he mumbles, “I’m fine.” He’s in control. He is the master of his emotions. He is a steady hand, a steady line on a blank canvas, and he will not waver. One. Two. Three. With more conviction, he says, “I’m fine. That was strange.”

“Are you sure?” Sakura muses, pushing his hair back so she can get a full feel of his forehead. “Your skin feels pretty clammy.”

“Aw, come on, Sakura,” Naruto chuckles from behind her. “You’re off the clock, doc! If Sai says he feels fine, he feels fine!” 

With a soft hum indicating she isn’t so sure, Sakura pulls her hand back, “Well, alright, but drink some more water and rest up when you get home.” She slides her cup over to him, glancing over to ask the chef’s daughter for a refill on Sai’s water. 

Sai accepts, noticing the lip print from where she’d sipped from the glass, and pointedly turning the cup away to sip from another spot. His stomach jumps again. He’s fine, he tells himself. He’s  _ fine.  _


	6. Day Six: “Want some company?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everyone! :) A little late for yesterday’s prompt, oops! Tbh I am pleasantly surprised that I am still on track-ish, since it’s been a busy month.

# Fleck

### Day Six: “Want some company?”

Sai has only ever had nightmares, so when Sakura appears in his sleep, he’s certain they’re on a familiar storyline—he’s on a mission, and up until this point that’s always meant he was with his brother, and something goes terribly wrong. So when he sees  _ Sakura _ next to him at a campfire in the middle of some dark forest, her hair pulled up and the soft pink color dancing with each flicker of flame, he thinks that at any moment some bloody incident will occur. In this scenario, probably enemy shinobi ambushing them from the dark beyond the edges of the fire’s glow. 

Instead, Sakura looks over at him, smiling pleasantly. “Want some company?” She says, her eyes slightly narrowing to form an expression he can’t place—warmth stirs in his abdomen from her tone, light, airy, a hint of mischief in its purpose. 

Company? They’re already the only two here. He’s dumbstruck, waiting for the other shoe to drop—an enemy to attack, an instructor to pin them against each other, a wild animal to rip her apart in front of him—and instead, she nimbly reaches to the top of her collar and begins pulling her zipper downward. That’s...new. He watches the metal slide slack-jawed, fabric parting as she goes, fabric unfurling apart to reveal more skin for the fire to bask in orange. Her cleavage is evident, drawing his eyes, and Sai is frozen in place, unable to move. Why would she…?

The fluttering is back, his heart thumping violently in his chest. He blurts, “What are you doing?” He feels like an idiot. It’s quite obvious what she’s doing. 

She snickers, shimmying out of her standard red working blouse—she’s wearing nothing underneath, like she had been at the store, and the shadows cast across her bare skin make him audibly gulp. “Come on, Sai. I knew you were dense, but you know what I’m doing, don’t you? You’ve at least  _ read _ about it somewhere, haven’t you?” Cheekily, she raises her gloved hands, perking up her breasts with them for him to ogle, perfectly plump with pink nipples hardening in the night air. “You’re the one who asked  _ me  _ about fuck buddies, and you’re shy  _ now?”  _

Sai chokes on his voice, eyes drawn to the soft curves of her skin. The hammering of his heart grows stronger, and he can feel the firm tightening of himself against the fabric of his pants. It’s not an unfamiliar situation—he’s woken up hard plenty of times, it’s biology, but it’s never felt this way. He’d never done anything about it—that would go directly against Root principles. He’d read about intercourse, but here, watching her gently palm her breasts as an open invitation for him, Sai felt like he was on fire. Like the campfire before them could only grow and consume them both. 

Sakura shifts over to him, moving nimbly over the grass, until she is practically hovering over him. “Well?” Sakura tilts her hands, fingertips pushing her breasts up next to his face. “What are you going to do about it?”

Without thinking about it, Sai licks his bottom lip. He tries to think back to something, anything he’s read—Sai read and watched romances in preparation for his conversation with Sakura, and while he’d never felt anything during them, he realizes that he’s seen this exact scene in an explicit movie and cast them both as the stars, and so he knows what comes next. His head dips forward, catching a pert nipple in his mouth and experimentally sucking. She tastes like—Sai isn’t sure what he expected, but she tastes like skin, a little salty. It’s the feel of her that sends goosebumps across his body, the soft swell of her nipple in his mouth as he traces his tongue around it, wholly unsure where to go from here.

Sakura shifts into his lap completely, her hips rocking over his as she positions herself. She still has her skirt on, her compress shorts riding up over plush thighs. 

His hands replace hers, and God, her skin is soft. Impossibly soft for someone in their line of work. Sai’s hips move without him thinking about it, stuttering up against the strain of his fabric and her own body on top of him. He whines against her skin, shuddering. None of his training comes to him, as desperate as he is to recall it. Instead of his own even breathing, Sai can only hear her soft whimpers and pants. 

Her hands shift down between them, palming the bulge in his pants firmly, her hand gliding over his twitching cock in a steady rhythm.

His hips jut to meet her touch. He feels like he’s on fire, his skin so warm that he can’t believe his touch isn’t burning her. Maybe it is. He sucks greedily, and he takes a cue from the movie, lips moving over her pale skin to suck along a path up to her neck. Her head rolls back, and Sai sucks along her skin at a point on her throat that elicits delicious moans from her. 

The more she palms him, the more urgent the knot in his abdomen feels. He moans into her skin, his eyes closing, and he chases the high—

Sai wakes with a soft, startled gasp, the hand palming the bugle in his sweatpants stuttering as he finishes abruptly. He grunts, panting, his body spasming as he breathes through his release. 

He comes down through it, trying to regain control of his swirling mind. All he can place are thoughts of her—Sakura’s smile, the look in her eyes, her body in his hands. He looks up into the darkness, where he knows his ceiling is, searching for something familiar to ground him. He knows, clinically, what had happened, but he doesn’t know how it had happened to  _ him. _ He’d never had a wet dream, and had certainly never masturbated through it. Sai tries to cycle through what he does know: he’d dreamt about the plot of a movie, with Sakura and himself in the leading roles, and it had felt—well, amazing. He shifts in the bed, grimacing as he realizes what a mess he’s made, and he rises to head toward the bathroom, navigating his room in the dark with the practiced skill instilled through his life. A life that had taught him nothing of...anything like this.

Sakura is no stranger to wet dreams. She’d always had a vivid imagination; it was one of the reasons she had such a talent with genjutsu. So when she’d found herself in a meadow, with Sasuke’s skilled fingers—the dreams are always about Sasuke—kneading into her bare back under the warm sunshine, Sakura thinks she knows exactly what she’s getting into.

“God, Sasuke, that feels amazing,” Sakura moans, arching her back in a comfortable stretch as his fingers dig into her tense muscles. “Mm, you have magic hands. This is exactly what I need.” 

“Thank you.” It isn’t Sasuke’s voice that responds to her. “I read about this in a book on human connection and intimacy.”

Sakura yelps, flipping over, to see Sai—shirtless. Well, more shirtless than he usually is, considering his midriff is generally exposed anyway. “Sai?!” Sakura blurts, realizing that she’s indecent—not naked, but wearing some sort of see through nightie. “What the hell are you doing here?!” She realizes that’s a stupid question, considering it’s her dream, and tries to adjust the nightie to cover as much as possible. Still, flustered, she blurts, “And where is your shirt?!”

Sai looks down briefly, unfazed, “Hm. You’re right, I don’t have a shirt.” He leans over her, lips pulling into a sly smirk, a well-toned arm on either side of her, “Strange.”

Sakura wakes with a start, clicking on her table light—not that she expects anything amiss, not in the real world, but the dream threw her off in a way she didn’t expect. She flushes, running fingers through her hair out of habit. What’s wrong with her? Why did Sai appear in her dream at all, let alone shirtless and giving her a massage? 

The two of them see each other in passing and, both embarrassed, give a polite nod as they pass on the street. Each of them hesitates, wanting to say hello, the crowd walking pushing them onward in their respective directions. 

Sai wonders what’s wrong with him, why the passing glance of her pastel pink hair in the crowd is enough to set him on edge. He wonders if he should go to the hospital and hope he doesn’t get her as his medic. He is pretty sure that they’d laugh him right out for a wet dream, but he feels like his chest might explode. This sort of thing isn’t supposed to happen to Sai. 

Sakura sees Sai and thinks, perhaps, she’s betrayed Sasuke somehow. Even if it’s just a dream. She feels ridiculous. It was a silly dream. And yet, at the thought of Sai’s bare shoulders, she blushes. Sakura wonders when the hell she became such a pervert. Poor, innocent, dense Sai would never think of her that way. She wonders if he still isn’t feeling well. She wonders if that’s why he didn’t say hello to her—not that she said hello to him either.


	7. Day Seven: Winter Tea

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everyone! Looks like I caught up after all, here is Day Seven! :)

# Fleck

### Day Seven: Winter Tea

Sakura can’t get Sai off her mind. She’d run into him so frequently now that a day without him yesterday is weird and, as she eyes a tin of apple cinnamon tea that Ino had gifted her, she wonders what he’s up to. She glances down at the tea, wondering if he still wasn’t feeling well. It’s a pretty chilly day to feel sick, a touch of winter interrupting the budding spring. And besides that, she isn’t on shift at the hospital today, so if he  _ was _ looking for her, or he did feel sick, she wouldn’t be there. 

Well, she muses, heading to a cabinet to search for thermoses. Maybe a cup of hot tea would make him feel better. Right? And would you look at that, she has a matching set of thermoses, clean and ready to go. Kakashi had pointed out where he lives while they were all still suspicious of him, so she could make a quick delivery and check on him.

So, Sakura finds herself walking up an apartment stairwell, bundled up in her winter coat with a warm thermos in each gloved hand, and she uses her foot to thump against Sai’s door. It’s quiet for a few minutes, giving Sakura enough time to inwardly debate whether or not this is stupid. Maybe he isn’t even home. Maybe he wouldn’t want to see her.

Then, the door opens, Sai peering out and dressed in dark pajamas. “Sakura,” he says, dark eyes wide. “What are you doing here?” He looks at her like he’s seen a ghost, not his teammate that he saw fairly regularly at this point.

Sakura holds out a thermos in offering, “I brought some tea. Figured it’s a chilly day and you weren’t feeling well, and thought some winter tea might help you feel better. Want some company?” She doesn’t want to outright say that he looks like shit, but the dark circles under his eyes tell her that he isn’t sleeping well.

Sai shudders, cheeks turning bright red. “I—” Sai starts, flashing back to his dream yesterday morning, a sex dream about the very woman standing at his door to offer him tea. Her cheery smile, with her bright hair tucked under a charcoal gray hat, sends flutters through his stomach once more, and he isn’t steeled enough to send her away. “Thank you. Come in.” He steps back, opening the door for her, and when she walks inside, she’s the brightest thing in the room.

The living room is sparsely furnished, with a mat underneath a small coffee table and bundles of neatly stacked weapons in the corner. She can’t quite see into the kitchen or his bedroom, but still. Sakura is shocked for a moment. There isn’t a single sign of a decoration, or anything personal. She’d expected paintings and art supplies, or some similar indicator that an artist lives here. “Well,” she walks in, moving to sit on the mat by his coffee table, “you have a very cozy home.”

“That’s certainly not true,” Sai quips, hesitant as to where he should sit. “’Cozy’ is defined as giving a feeling of comfort, warmth, and relaxation.” He sits opposite from Sakura, trying to put a little distance between them. Still, it’s a small table, and their feet bump underneath.

She slides him a thermos, “It’s apple cinnamon tea.” With a smile, she asks, “How is your stomach feeling?”

Sai takes a sip. He hadn’t known he was cold until he swallows, feeling the warmth radiate through him. His eyes soften, half-lidded. She’d brought this for him? “I feel…strange. Not bad, but not like I’m supposed to.”

Sakura tilts her head at that, “I’m not sure what that means. What are your symptoms?” She takes a sip, drinking deeply, figuring it would take him a moment to explain.

“Based on previous discussion, the only logical conclusion that I can come to is that I have a crush.” He takes another sip. Sweet. It’s warm, like her, when she smiles at him. When she laughs. He clarifies, “On you.”

Sakura chokes, coughing abruptly, nudging her head into her elbow as she tries to breath. “Wait,” she says, looking back up at him, eyes watery from coughing, “hold on a minute, Sai. A crush? On me? But that’s impossible. I thought you were just—” Sakura trails off, gesturing to him, “figuring out the whole human connection thing.”

“Correct.” He’s displeased with her reaction—Sai isn’t sure what he expected, certainly not for her to be interested after she’d already rejected him for it, but something more than disbelief at his condition. Pointedly, and perhaps a little bitterly as she’d practically called him incapable of it when he’d admitted his findings, “I’ve had symptoms including clammy skin, increased heart rate, a violent fluttering in my stomach that makes me nauseous whenever I see you—”

Sakura makes a sour expression, but Sai continues.

“I had a dream about you, a—” Sai averts his eyes, mortified to say it, but he wants to understand, “sexual dream. You showing up here, today, with a gift because you’re worried about my welfare just brings all of that back. I don’t know what I’m doing wrong, or how to make it go away.”

Oh, God. “Well,” Sakura starts, her mind completely blank, “are—are you sure? I mean, people have sex dreams about other people all the time, and it doesn’t mean that’s what they want.” She feels a little guilty for latching onto the one thing that applies to her. “And even if that’s the case, you’re allowed to feel your feelings now, Sai. It doesn’t have to go away, per se.”

“Of course it does,” Sai levels with her, frowning, hands playing with the thermos. He focuses on it, on how much he’d liked the gesture, “I understand your feelings, and so I will figure out a way to get rid of my own.”

Something about it seems so sad to her. “To be completely honest,” Sakura starts, fidgeting with her own thermos, and she takes a sip of tea to wet her throat, “I had a sex dream about you the other day—” quite recently, but she didn’t want to admit that outright. “It’s a natural thing that happens to people.”

“Not to me,” Sai shakes his head. “I was trying to understand, but the feelings are...unprofessional. They’re against my protocols.”

Sakura isn’t sure at all what that means. Sai’s background is suspicious at best: a shinobi that none of them had ever heard of, from a mysterious organization that had clearly fucked him up emotionally and socially, run by someone that their Hokage doesn’t trust. “What does that mean?” She says carefully, “Sai, you’re a person, you’re allowed to have feelings.”

Sai is quiet for a few moments, nursing on the tea thoughtfully. “Perhaps I shouldn’t have pursued this avenue to fit in. It can’t be too late to stop it.”

The sentiment is just too sad for her, and her hand darts forward across the table to his, “Don’t say that, Sai.” She pulls his fingers from the thermos, gripping them in her own, “Listen, I can’t claim to know what you’ve been through, but I don’t think you should give up on figuring out how to connect with people. I think...that would be too sad.”

Sai quirks a flicker of a smile, “I suppose you would. You aren’t the type to give up on people.”

Sakura wonders if she’s about to do something foolish. It crosses her mind that Sasuke might be angry with her, upon his return—and then she remembers Tsunade’s words. She was never Sasuke’s priority. Here is someone lost in the darkness, desperate for answers, looking to  _ her _ for help. “Sai, come here,” she says, tugging his hand.

He knits his brow, dark eyes looking at her, clearly confused. Still, he slowly rises, approaching her and sitting down beside her. Where her fingers touch him, his skin feels warm. Like drinking the tea, he hadn’t known he was cold until they’d touched, warmth radiating through him as the thumping of his heart grows loud in his ears. 

Sakura takes her other hand and brings it up, her fingertips tracing over the side of his jaw, “Do you—Do you still want to try? I could kiss you, if you wanted.”

He leans forward on instinct, but he stops short, hesitating, “But...what about…?”

The implication is obvious. What about Sasuke? “Well,” she starts, nervous, her heart fluttering, “I think maybe your book was right. It could be, um, mutually beneficial.” She shifts, her hand nudging his jaw toward hers, their noses brushing, “We could give it a try. I don’t want you to lock your feelings away because they’re new and strange, Sai.” 

It’s the way she says his name that does it. It’s a simple name, with no clan or family behind it. Just a brother that was never truly his own. But in this moment, from her lips—her distracting lips, right there—it’s his new favorite sound. He leans forward, clumsily bumping his lips to hers. 

Sakura leans into the kiss. It’s both of their first, neither particularly prepared, and both equally timid. Still, she shifts into him, one hand still holding his and the other trailing from his jaw to curl in his dark hair. 

It is here, in his dark, bare apartment, that Sai pushes forward—deepening their kiss, his free hand resting on her waist—and ignores the voice telling him to control his breathing, to push everything he feels down. When they finally part, he looks at her, eyes half-lidded, awestruck.

“That—” Sakura squeaks, her cheeks brightly flushed, “That was nice.”

“Mm,” Sai mumbles, lips pulling up in a soft smile, “apple cinnamon.” He moves, resting his head on her shoulder, “Thank you.”

Sakura chuckles, embarrassed, but with a newfound warmth in her heart, “You don’t have to thank me, dummy.” 

He doesn’t look up at her, blurting, “Can we do that again?”

Sakura nudges his face back up to hers in answer, a smile playing on her lips. It’s fine, she thinks. This is fine. Good, great, even. It was her first kiss, and though it wasn’t with who she had imagined, the timid wonder in his eyes is more than she could have asked for. She presses her lips to him once more, enjoying the feel of him relaxing against her. 


	8. Day Eight: Stitches

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everyone! :) Thank you for the love and welcome to day eight!

# Fleck

### Day Eight: Stitches

Sakura isn’t sure what to make of yesterday, like she’s come out of some sort of surprise, romantic fugue state. They had kissed until Sai grew dizzy, his cheeks warm, and she let him rest curled into her shoulder until he was ready to let her go. It had all been a bit much for him—Sakura is used to being the love-struck, overwhelmed one, so it’s a nice change of pace. It makes her feel a little more confident in the decision to—to do whatever the hell she’s doing. Rebounding. Testing the waters. She’d smoothed his hair and told him that he doesn’t have to do anything he wasn’t ready for. 

Privately, she’d always imagined that sort of assurance would be given to  _ her,  _ presumably by Sasuke. She got Sai a glass of water from his kitchen, a particularly bare kitchen with quite literally a single glass, and they just...hung out. More so than anything romantic, Sakura realized as Sai showed her the pages of his sketchbook, she lacked her own relationship with Sasuke. They relied on one another as a unit. They trained, did missions, ate—as a  _ unit, _ or it was weird. She would die for any of her teammates on the battlefield, but could she have showed up to  _ Sasuke’s _ apartment with tea on a whim? No, he’d have called her annoying, even if he cared about her as a friend and teammate. 

“Ah,” Sai had mumbled as they came across a picture of her in his sketchbook, her hair drawn into bunches of the blossoms for which she’s named, “this. I drew this after we met.” He fidgeted, embarrassed, “Your hair reminded me of spring and I’d wanted to draw it. Sorry.”

It sounded to Sakura like an admission, a clarification that he had found her enchanting and not known what to make of her, like someone stumbling across a siren in the sea. “You don’t have to apologize,” Sakura said, her eyes tracing over the ink lines. He’s good. Minimalist, but elegant. “It’s beautiful. I look likeI popped out of a storybook.” She wondered if that’s what she looks like to him, and remembered him telling her that he found her out of place. They stay that way, huddled up over his sketchbook, both a little shy, both a little broken-and-working-on-it, hands occasionally finding one another’s until Sakura realized it’s time to go. She needed to get a few things done on her day off, and she has a shift early the next day. But—soon, they assured each other. They can meet up again soon.

Which brings Sakura to the very next day, Sakura’s nerves practically buzzing with anticipation as she works her shift—nothing major, just run of the mill doctor visits. In her post make-out daze, she’d forgotten the thermoses, and Sakura keeps wondering whether or not he’d go out of his way to return them to her. 

“Excuse me, Sakura,” one of the nurses calls out to her, approaching from the receptionist’s desk, “there’s a man who requested you in examination room three.” 

Her heart flutters, the thought searing her mind that it’s Sai. She also knows better than to run in the hospital unless there’s a code, or similar dire emergency, that requires it—but she certainly hustles. She opens the door, lips already curved in a wicked smile and ready to tease him about wanting to see her so soon, and the words die in her throat when she sees Kakashi Hatake in her exam room. 

“Ka-Kakashi,” Sakura starts warily, shocked to see the older man—partly because she was so focused on it being someone specific, and partly because Kakashi notoriously avoids the hospital. “What brings you in?” She grabs the clipboard off the counter, starting to skim.

“I was cut training and need a few stitches,” Kakashi holds out his arm for her inspection. He rolls the sleeve up, and sure enough, there’s a home-wrapped wound starting to bleed through his bandages. “Nothing too serious, but I thought my favorite medic should take a look.” 

“Stitches?” Sakura raises a critical brow, “Something this small is just a few minutes’ work.” She sets the clipboard down, striding across the room and performing the hand signs for the healing hands technique. “You hate the hospital. You came all the way here for a small laceration?”

“You caught me.” Classic Kakashi, passive and with minimal fanfare. “Yamato is keeping an eye on Sai and told me you two have been...crossing paths lately. He says you brought Sai soup and stayed a while yesterday. I told him I would take the opportunity to check in.” 

“It was tea,” Sakura blurts, as though that’s the most important correction, “and why are you spying on Sai? He didn’t do anything wrong.” The laceration heals right before her eyes, as she holds the gentle glow of her chakra over his arm. She finishes and takes a step back, inspecting her work.

“You can never discount the possibility that someone is dangerous,” Kakashi says flatly. They both know, in a sense, that’s true. They’ve met enough shinobi raised solely for battle, for the art of the kill, than they can bear to count.

“Dangerous in the sense that we’re all shinobi, sure,” Sakura tilts her head, wondering where this is going, “but not dangerous to me. Naruto is one of the strongest people I know, but he wouldn’t hurt me. You can wield lightning in the palm of your hand, but I’m pretty sure no one would bat an eyelash if someone brought you tea when you weren’t feeling well. I trust Sai.” She crosses her arms, irritated. Besides, it’s not like Kakashi was there to witness the moon eyes he was making at her yesterday. “Don’t you think you’re being a little overprotective?”

“Naruto isn’t going to like it.” 

Ah, there it is. Not a stern warning, but a warning nonetheless. 

“You invest in broken people, Sakura. Like Sasuke. And they can’t all be fixed just because you want them to be. Sai is from an organization that breaks one’s spirit, their humanity, right out of them.”

“Naruto’s a grown man,” Sakura scoffs, turning around to open the door. She hesitates in the doorway, gripping the handle tight enough that she has to consciously think about not cracking it, “and in case you haven’t noticed, pretty much everyone we know is at least a little fucked up.  _ Unlike  _ Sasuke, at least Sai is happy to have me around while he figures it out. See you for the next Team Seven dinner, sensei.” She closes the door behind her, knowing that once she’s cut the conversation off, he wouldn’t chase her down to get another word in. It’s not his way. 

“Sakura!” Another nurse catches her in the hallway. “Did you hear?”

She turns, forcing a neutral expression, so as not to take her sour mood out on her poor coworker, “Hear what?” Still, Kakashi can be so—so passive aggressive.  _ Naruto isn’t going to like it.  _ So? It’s not like she approves of all of Naruto’s choices. Maybe he could have thought about what she  _ liked  _ before he left too. She thinks Sai’s naive honesty is good for her. Refreshing. Different from her teammates, who bottle everything up: Kakashi, emotionally distant under the false pretense of protecting them; Naruto, hiding his negative feelings under sunny optimism; and Sasuke, until he’d finally snapped.

“There’s a young man in the lobby, to, um—“ She leans in to whisper conspiratorially, “He says he’s here to return something you left at his house.”

Sakura’s expression softened, and she smiled sheepishly, “Thanks.” 

Sakura finds Sai in the lobby, and he perks up when he sees her. He has a thermos in each hand, and a small bundle of purple lilacs held in the crook of his elbow. His face is neutral, but the rigidity of his shoulders gives him away—Sai’s nervous. She smiles warmly, in an attempt to set him at ease, “Hey, Sai.”

“Hello,” Sai ducks his head in acknowledgement, shifting the thermoses so that he can offer her the flowers, “I read that a common practice of courtship is to present flowers.” 

Sakura accepts the small bouquet, a little flustered because she can hear the receptionist gossiping with some of the nurses about her behind the desk. Still, after years of her apprenticeship with Tsunade and the other hospital staff nagging her to give dating a whirl—and agitated after Kakashi’s presumptuous visit—Sakura is ready to give them something to gossip about. “Thank you, Sai,” Sakura leans in, briefly pressing a kiss to his cheek. “They’re lovely.”

His forced neutrality falters, his dark eyes softening, lips forming a small smile. “I was hoping you’d like them. Ino suggested she knew your taste.”

Sakura inwardly shoots Ino a thank you. She knows she’ll be getting an earful about it being about damn time. Before she can respond, he goes on.

“Would you—? I read that—“ Sai winces, clearly fumbling over his words, “There’s a festival in a few days. I thought, perhaps, with me, you might like to go. Would you?” 

His earnest cluelessness is endearing. He means the upcoming festival to welcome Spring, she’d heard about it too. Naruto would definitely be there, and if she and Sai went together, she’d certainly have to define their newly kindled relationship. Still, it’s not like Kakashi badgering her or Sai bringing her flowers at work didn’t say loudly enough they have something going on. Even though they’re only figuring things out themselves, Sakura readies herself for a conversation with the most headstrong person she knows. “Yes, I’d love to go.”

She can sense the gentle thrum of Kakashi’s chakra across the lobby—and while she can’t physically sense him judging her, she’s pretty sure that he is.


	9. Day Nine: Chakra

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everyone! :) Thanks for the love on the story. I can't believe we're already nine days in.

# Fleck

### Day Nine: Chakra

Sakura stops by Ino’s flower shop the next morning, to thank her friend for helping Sai pick flowers for her, and to privately urge her to keep that little bit of gossip to herself until Sakura can talk to Naruto.

Her old friend, and former rival in love before Ino distanced herself from her long-time crush on Sasuke following his defection, is busy prepping a lovely bouquet of white lilies. She sees Sakura come in, baby blue eyes darting to Sakura with the quickness of a practiced shinobi. “Sakura!” Ino says brightly, lips curving into a knowing smile, “Well, well, well. And to think I thought for sure you’d never have the guts to pick a new man.”

Sakura looks around sharply—Ino and Sakura are thankfully the only ones left in the shop. “Ino!” Sakura hisses, “It’s still—It’s still new, and…”

“You haven’t told Naruto yet, and you think he won’t be happy for you,” Ino says it flatly, a statement instead of a question, as she focuses on finishing up the bouquet.

Ino had always been able to read Sakura pretty well. That’s how they became friends in the first place, Ino strategically befriending a shy, timid, lonely Sakura. With Sakura in the role of the “mature one” in her team’s original triad, and her teammates about as emotionally aware as a bunch of river rocks, Ino’s aptitude for reading people still catches her off guard—even after all these years. “Well,” Sakura fumbles, embarrassed to ask the favor, “I think he’ll be happy for me when he comes around, but… Naruto isn’t well equipped for change. I have to assure him that this doesn’t mean I’m giving up on Sasuke as a friend and teammate, just… branching out a little. Naruto can be—”

“Notoriously stubborn?” Ino finishes with a dry chuckle.

“Exactly,” Sakura’s shoulders wilt.

“You don’t have to worry about me. InoShikaCho has a briefing later for a scouting mission up North, we’ll probably be gone for a week or so.” Satisfied with her work, Ino sets aside the bouquet for customer pickup. “Besides, Naruto is older and more mature than when he left the village, isn’t he?”

Before Sakura can respond, the entrance bell jingles to signal another customer, and both women glance over to see a disheveled Hinata, absolutely covered in loose dirt. “Sakura,” she says urgently, “thank goodness. You have to come quickly. Naruto is fighting that other teammate of yours—” Sakura shakes her head, “It’s getting ugly.”

Oh, Goddammit.

Sure enough, Hinata leads her to their combined collection of teammates, Kiba restraining Naruto’s arms as Shino, his insects swarming at the ready, stands between them and an already battered Sai, nursing a swollen jaw. Even Akamaru, normally friendly, prowls at Naruto’s feet and growls at the thrashing blond.

“Let me at him,” Naruto bellows, kicking his feet at the ground petulantly. “I’ll teach that smug asshole a lesson.” Certainly, he’d tried to teach Sai something—the training ground is in ruins, nasty holes blown in to the dirt and through the forest, all of them covered thickly in dirt.

“Seriously?!” Kiba scoffs behind him.

“Don’t you think you’ve done enough?” Shino snips at him, insects buzzing angrily around.

Sai sees Sakura and Hinata approaching, and he starts to walk shakily in their direction.

Sakura speeds up, jogging to meet him, and just as they reach one another he slumps, legs wobbling, forcing her to hold his full weight. “Sai?” Sakura starts to panic, hands at his torso, trying to support his weight with his head slung over her shoulder.

“’M alright,” he responds quietly, draped over her, relieved despite the throbbing of his jaw and the intense aching in his side. It’s not the first time he’d had broken bones, and certainly not the worst. Her presence is soothing, and in it, he can slip to the spot in his mind that allows him to ignore the pain. “Caught me by surprise.”

Naruto’s quieted down, still pinned by Kiba, and he gawks slack-jawed at the two of them. “But—” Naruto starts, brow knitting in confusion. “No, but wait—! Sai was telling lies about you, and then we got fighting! He said that you two—that you two—” Naruto scoffs pointedly, “Sakura, it’d disgust you for me to even say it!”

Kiba shares a look with Hinata, who starts to explain, “Naruto came out to join us for our training, and we found—” Hinata struggles to remember Sai’s name, blurting it out as she continues, “Sai! We found Sai out here already training, and Shino mentioned that he saw Sai at the hospital yesterday bringing you flowers. And then Naruto got—um, upset, and wanted to know why he’d do that, and Sai said that you two had k-ki-ki-i-i—” Hinata cuts off, flushed bright red.

“There’s no way you kissed that bastard, right Sakura?” Naruto huffs, puffing out his chest, “So I had to defend your honor!”

Sakura balks, her skin prickling, “Are you kidding me, Naruto?!”

“No, he really said that! As if you—” Naruto falters, watching her stern expression turn to fury, “you—you…” He gulps, finally accounting for the mood, “You really did kiss him?”

She’d intended to talk to Naruto about this. She’d known he would react negatively at first, both overprotective of her and defensive of Sasuke. But this? The holes in the dirt were from his Rasengan, not a technique appropriate for a spar between frustrated teammates. It sends her back to a rooftop argument gone wrong between Naruto and Sasuke, where they’d both fought with the intent to kill each other. “I don’t think that’s any of your damn business,” she starts, her eyes flashing angrily, “but as a matter of fact, I did, and I’ll do it again, too.”

“You will?” Sai pipes up.

“Hold on, Sai, I’m lecturing Naruto.”

“But,” Naruto starts, flustered with her admission, and he asks the winning question, “What about Sasuke?!”

On another day, Sakura would have explained her feelings. She would have explained that Sasuke made a choice when he abandoned the village, and she’s allowed to move on with her life. She still wants him to be safe, happy, okay. She would still die for him, if it came down to it, because he’s her teammate and they’re all he has, but that she thinks Sai is good for her and she’s good for Sai. But this is today, and Naruto’s crossed yet another line under the pretext of defending her—rather like Kakashi, now that she thinks about it—and so she steels her voice and brazenly challenges, “What  _ about _ Sasuke?”

Naruto says nothing, watching her blankly, perhaps sensing that he’s struck some deep nerve he hadn’t intended to.

Sakura huffs, knowing that they’re both too pissed off for a productive conversation right now. “Kiba, Shino, Hinata, thank you. I’m so sorry about him.”

“You—” Hinata starts, looking between her and Naruto, a pained expression on her face, “You don’t need to apologize! I hate to see you all fighting.”

Sakura shakes her head, “We’ll be—” She doesn’t want to say fine. She’s too pissed off for fine. Where does Naruto get off, acting like a crazed older brother? Where does Kakashi get off, warning her like a dad? “We’ll talk about it later. I’m going to get Sai out of here and get him fixed up.”

Home is closer than the hospital, so she brings him home, his arm slung over her shoulders as they make the slow trek off of the destroyed field. For all of Naruto’s nerve, he doesn’t dare follow them.

She sets him up on her sofa, sitting him down and turning to go grab something to sterilize his small scratches from her bathroom closet.

Sai grabs her wrist before she can go, wincing at the sharp pain in his side, “Ah, wait.”

Sakura stops, face twisting into a frown, “What’s wrong?” She feels like this is her fault. Sai didn’t know better than telling Naruto, and it put him in this position faster than she anticipated. She thought for sure Ino would be the one announcing it.

“You said that you’d kiss me again,” Sai protests, frowning right back at her.

Sakura’s caught off guard at that, quiet for a lingering moment before a dry chuckle escapes her, “Can I heal your cracked ribs first?”

“No.”

Sakura almost outright laughs, but the situation has her too on edge. He’s being a brat. She wouldn’t have thought he was capable of it. “Well, I’m the medical shinobi, and I say yes. Your health comes first.”

His frown falters, his dark eyes softening, and he drops her wrist. 

Sakura returns shortly with some herbs to chew on that will help with the pain, and she gets to work mending his ribs, her chakra glowing a gentle green over his midriff. She can feel her progress working, and she tries not to think about his exposed, toned stomach. Here. On her couch. She forcibly averts her eyes. “This might be a little uncomfortable.”

Sai makes no noise of discontent, studying the feel of her chakra pouring into him, the cells of his bones slowly repairing themselves. As she works, moving on to his swollen jaw, and then to sterilize the small lacerations across his arms, Sai waits patiently for her to be done. And when she is, pulling back to admire her work, he leans forward to take her jaw in his hands and pull her into him, eagerly crushing his lips to hers.

Sakura tenses, and then lets herself relax. Sai is okay. Naruto will come around. Everything will be alright. She shifts, climbing onto his lap, and they kiss until Sai’s had his fill—starting to doze against her collarbone, arms wrapped snugly around her waist, trapping her against him until they’re both lulled to sleep.


	10. Day 10: “Who are you talking to?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everyone! :) Welcome to day ten! Judging myself a little for this one, lmao.

# Fleck

### Day Ten: “Who are you talking to?”

They’d dozed off together on the couch, Sakura draped over him and Sai soundly sleeping tucked into her neck, and by the time they’d woken up from their nap, they were both starving. While Sakura made something simple, Sai found time to explore her home, questioning her about the purpose of every knick-knack and oddity he could find.

“Are you often cold? There are so many blankets everywhere.”

“They’re for comfort and decoration.”

“Why do you have so many mugs?”

“I like to drink out of different ones. Besides, sometimes I have people over. Would you like some tea?”

“Yes, thank you.” 

And on and on, with Sai intimately memorizing the details of her house in a way no one has—no one has ever wondered out loud why she prefers green towels, or if this is her favorite type of te, or why she has so many pillows on the bed, or why she keeps a snow globe on her mantle. He admired the flowers he’d gifted her, in a vase on her counter. There is one excuse to keep hanging out after another. Soon it’s time for dinner. Then, Sai has more questions for her. Before Sakura knows it, they’re curled up on her couch, comfortable underneath one of Sakura’s admittedly frivolous blankets and falling asleep once more—it had been a long day for the both of them.

Movement from Sai causes Sakura to stir in the middle of the night—too late to warrant sending him home, but well before her alarm is due to go off for her shift in the morning. At first, she thinks nothing of it. They’re sitting up on her couch, propped together but certainly not in the most comfortable sleeping position, and neither of them is used to sleeping next to someone else. Sakura closes her eyes, nestling into his shoulder and trying to will herself back to sleep.

Sai shifts again, and this time, a breathy moan escapes his lips. 

Sakura is still so tired that she doesn’t realize what’s happening until, next to her, Sai begins gently rocking his hips in earnest.

He lets out a soft whimper, his breathing heavy, and his head moves so that his cheek presses to the crown of her head. His hips speed up, continuing to buck softly next to her on the couch.

Is he—? No, right? Sakura freezes, uncertain in her half-asleep stupor.

Sai lets out a strangled moan, his breath fanning her hair. She can feel him move, his hand closest to her shifting between his legs, pressing to the bulge of his erection through his pants to offer additional friction as he grinds his hips up. 

He is. Sakura flushes hotly, her heart hammering in her chest. Sai is masturbating in his sleep. “S—“ Sakura chokes on his name, her throat dry, as she gently shifts away from him, “Sai.” She can see his eyes flutter open as he wakes from his dream, her training allowing her to peer decently through the darkness. 

Sai shifts, breaths small and shallow as he whines out her name, “Sa-a-ku-ra-a.” 

Her name said so desperately sends a shiver up her spine. Sakura turns to face him, the hand closest to him gripping the couch cushion as she brings her other hand up to gently caress his cheek, “Wake up, Sai. You’re dreaming.”

He leans into her touch, her cool skin soothing him, and mumbles, “I keep—I keep having that dream, where you…” His hips still as he comes to his senses, but he lets out a whine and brings her hands to his mouth, placing fervent kisses to her palm to distract himself, to bring himself down to Earth. 

“Where I what?” Sakura asks, awestruck by his expression, by the lovely noises he makes. Maybe it’s the late night, maybe she’s distracted by his shaky breaths, but the words tumble out of her mouth, “Is there something you want me to do, Sai?”

It’s his name that does it. Sai groans against her palm, the hand he’d been grinding against in his sleep grabbing hers from the couch and pressing it, his hand covering hers, against the throbbing bulge in his pants. He starts to rock his hips against her, whimpering, the noise softened with her hand against his mouth. 

It’s  _ electric.  _ Sakura can only watch him desperately hump against her open palm, the blanket fallen to the pool at their ankles, his fingers intertwining with hers to keep her pressed against him. There’s something so carnal about it, Sai desperate to satiate himself with no real idea  _ how  _ except what feels good. When he throws his head back, jaw slack, her hand slipping from his open mouth, she cups his chin and tilts him toward her to eagerly press her lips to his. They kiss, her tongue pushing deftly into his mouth to smother his whimpers, and his hips stuffed in their pace as he nears his climax.

Sai mumbles her name into her mouth, and he’s so tightly wound he thinks he might snap—and then he does, his hips stilling in an arch as he finishes, against her hand pressed tightly against him, with only the thin fabric of his pants separating them. 

Sakura can feel him trembling, and soon she can feel the wetness against her palm. She pulls away from their kiss, her hand moving from cupping his face to gently smooth his hair. His eyes are closed, and he’s softly panting. Sakura repositions herself, slowly pulling him into her as she continues to stroke his hair. With her eyes half-lidded, she asks him, “Do you feel better, Sai?”

Sai nudges her down so that they’re lying on the couch, their blanket completely discarded, with his body draped over her so that he can nestle downward into her neck. He makes a soft, sleepy noise of affirmation, hands wrapping underneath her arms and around her torso. 

“Don’t you want some water or anything? A towel?”

Sai grunts, his grip around her tightening, “Don’t get up.”

Sakura runs a hand along his back, slipping underneath the short black shirt he tends to wear, and rubs soothingly along his spine. She feels warm, aroused, thrust into action, so to speak—but Sai is clearly exhausted. He dozes off first, pressing sleepy packs to her neck until he can’t keep himself awake. Sakura follows shortly after, her hand slowing to a stop just under the hem of his shirt.

She’s woken the next morning by the piercing buzz of her alarm clock, all the way over in her bedroom. She moves to get up, gently tapping Sai to wake him. 

“No,” Sai protests, his voice flat, not moving an inch. 

“Sai, I need to get ready for work.”

In response, he tightens his grip around her torso, grumbling nonsense into her hair. 

“The alarm won’t stop until I get up to go turn it off.” 

That convinced him and begrudgingly, Sai sits up and scoots off of her, eyes half-lidded with his exhaustion. 

Sakura is a woman of routine, and the addition of Sai in the morning poses no real additional barriers—breakfast for both of them and getting dressed—but she does have to put his pants in the washer, so she starts a load of laundry for him. 

“When they’re done drying and you’re ready,” Sakura explains as she gathers her things for work, pressing a kiss to his cheek and heading for the door, opening it and looking back over her shoulder as she goes, “just lock the door behind you.” Then, she walks out, squarely into the chest of Naruto Uzumaki, his fist poised to knock on her door.

They both stare at each other, stupefied. 

“Who are you talking to?” Naruto blurts out, and then it dawns on him, horror flickering across his face as he grimaces, “Oh! Oh, gross!”

Sakura narrows her eyes at him in a fierce glare, standing in her open doorway. 

“I mean,” Naruto amends, forcing a sheepish smile to try and avoid her wrath, “definitely not gross! Completely normal!”

“Nice save,” Sakura huffs, rolling her eyes. “I’m on my way to work.”

Naruto raises his hands, as if to say he means no harm, “Wait, I’m here to apologize to you and—I mean, I didn’t know Sai is here, but he was my next stop. Anyway,” Naruto peeks over Sakura’s shoulder and Sai steps into view, clad in a pair of Sakura’s red sweatpants, which are a little too tight for him, “I assumed Sai was lying and I flipped out. I’m sorry for going too hard on you, man. And Sakura, for putting my nose in your business.”

“You’re forgiven,” Sai says, nonchalant, studying Sakura’s family portrait on the wall. 

Sakura has always had a soft spot for Naruto. “You can’t act like that,” Sakura clarifies. “I’m surprised Lady Tsunade didn’t give you an earful for ripping apart the training field.” 

“She, uh—She did.” Naruto grumbles, “For several hours.”

“And you owe Hinata, Kiba, and Shino an apology too.”

“I know.” Naruto scuffs his foot along the cement, frowning, “It’s just… when did you get over Sasuke?”

“I still want him to come home. I still care about him. If—“ Sakura quickly corrects herself, “When he comes home, I’ll still be his friend and teammate, but I wanted to try a, uh, rebound.”

Naruto is quiet for a moment, processing that, before he forcibly gags, “A what?! Agh, Sakura, couldn’t you have just told me it’s true love or something?!” 

Sakura stifles a laugh, “Listen, I really have to go, but we can sort this out later.” She gives Sai a final wave, closing the door behind her and giving Naruto an affectionate tap on the shoulder before she runs off—literally, because she’s probably going to be late, and she knows Naruto has probably put Tsunade in a foul mood.


End file.
